


At Four and Five and Six O'clock

by LovelyJehan



Series: Ryan/Brendon/Dallon Poly Fics [8]
Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst/Fluff, Apparently I cannot write straight up fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Linda and Spencer are good friends, M/M, Multi, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9702716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyJehan/pseuds/LovelyJehan
Summary: Brendon wished he could be sitting on his couch.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from a line from T.S. Eliot's 'Preludes.'

Brendon wished he could be sitting on his couch, snuggled between two warm bodies, watching a random reality television show that Ryan was obsessed with. He longed to watch Ryan fidget with his fingernails, as Dallon tugged at his own hair. Brendon pined for a steaming cup of Dallon’s hot coco that, after consuming it, was like standing in the warm sun. Brendon yearned for them, yet he had been foolish enough to cause an on-going, three day argument about something that Brendon could no longer remember. He had yelled at Ryan and Dallon, accused them of some unspeakable act, then proceeded to pack a bag and walk out of the house. The sound of Dallon’s broken sob as he slammed the door, haunted his nightmares and the sound of Ryan on his voicemail saying, _‘don’t walk out on me, please,’_ plagued his mind on loop, when awake. 

Ryan’s eyes were still red from crying, Dallon’s hair a mess - sticking up in all directions. Dallon had woken up several times during the nights to Ryan screaming and wrapping his hands around his neck, reliving nights with his father over again and crying out for Spencer or Brendon or even Dallon himself. Dallon, who couldn’t stand to see anyone upset, had called Spencer and explained the situation. He and Linda had spent the past two nights with them. Ryan was eternally grateful for his boyfriend and his best friend and his best friend’s wife for their patience. 

“Hey, how you guys doing?” Linda asked softly, entering their bedroom.

“We’ve been better,” Ryan said, without a tone of emotion in his voice.

Linda looked at them sympathetically, “Spencer’s made dinner - if you feel up to it, of course.” 

“Thank you,” Dallon whispered. 

She smiled at them before exiting. Dallon sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

“You coming, Ry?” He asked, gently. 

Ryan nodded his head meekly. 

Once they were seated at the dining table, they were presented with the dinner that Spencer had made. It tasted like comfort and Ryan was immediately transported to a place in his mind where he was fifteen, sitting next to Spencer at the Smith’s dinner table. Ryan raised his eyes to look at Spencer, the younger man smiled sheepishly in return. 

Dallon picked at his food, he had not been able to stomach much in the past few day without it coming back up again. With one hand holding a fork, Ryan’s other hand was a comforting weight on Dallon’s knee. It was strange without Brendon’s presence. Quiet was nice, but at what cost? Their boyfriend? Both Dallon and Ryan would take his ruckus any day. 

There was a knock at the door and as Spencer got up to answer it, he saw the glimmer of hope that made its way into the eyes of Dallon and Ryan. Spencer opened the door,

“Spence?” Brendon asked, confused. 

“Hey, B.” 

“Is, um, are Ry and Dal here?” 

“They are, but they’re pretty upset. Just warning you,” Spencer replied, quietly. 

“Thanks.” 

Spencer stepped aside and let Brendon enter. As Brendon stepped into the kitchen and dining area, Ryan’s fork fell out of his hand and clattered on the floor. None of the inhabitants of the room made an attempt to pick it up.

“We’ll see you guys soon.” Spencer said, hugging the three men as Linda kissed them each one on the cheek. “Bye boys.” She said as the left.

Brendon cleared his throat causing Ryan to drop his eyes to the ground, unconsciously focusing on the fork. Dallon looked up at Brendon, but refused to make eye contact with him. He cleared his throat again before speaking,

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I should never have walked out,” he looked at Ryan, “and I’m sorry that I caused such a big deal over something that I can’t even remember now.”

Ryan looked up, “I-I-I, y-y-you ca-a-ame back,” he sobbed. 

“I’m sorry.” Brendon whispered. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

Apologies became a mantra in the room, as if without them, Brendon would leave again. If there was ever a constant in Ryan’s life, it was Brendon. Strange, because Brendon was the least consistent person he knew - always wanting to jump from one thing to another and back again. It was due to that, that Ryan knew him like the back of his hand. 

Dallon, was still in a great deal of shock, as if Brendon had risen from the dead. In a way he had, being gone for so long without contacting either of his lovers. Ryan got up from the table and let Brendon collapse into his chest, let Brendon sob _sorries_ and _I love you’s._ It was in that moment that one could see the age gaps between them all, Dallon - the eldest, Ryan - the bridge connecting them, and Brendon - the youngest. 

Dallon got up from the table and moved to them, as if being pulled by a magnet. Ryan half let go of Brendon, to let Dallon in, and the three of them stood there, holding each other for what could have been an eternity. It didn’t matter because they would always be there, no matter what.


End file.
